What is most Beautiful. "WHAT most beautiful, hill or dale, Forest or prairie, mountain or vale? Answer me, Dryads, from breezy shade, By cooling stream or in woodland glade!" And a low, sweet whisper was on the air"The soul of the beautiful dwells not there." "Kingly old mountains, so stately now, With your crowns of snow on each hoary brow, What Speak from your seats of a thousand years, most beautiful, cloud-wrapp'd seers?" And a voice came down in the pine-woods drear "The soul of the beautiful dwells not here." "Ocean, old ocean, thou rollest along, Chiming to heaven thy ceaseless song, Zoning the earth with thy boundless sea, Surely, more beautiful nought could be!" And a Naiad sang from the blue depths near66 The soul of the beautiful dwells not here.' "Stars, as ye hymn in your orbs on high, Stars, as ye wheel in the mystic sky, Stars, prophet-stars, in your seer-like tones, Answer me down from your burning thrones !" And a voice was heard, as a voice from a bier "The soul of the beautiful dwells not here." I ceased, but a sound went by me still, Murmured the wood, the sea, and the plain, A Child's Face. OH! looking on a child's fair face HON. MRS. NORTON. All Men are Brothers. ALL men are brothers, speak to them as such: The Spring of Love. Он, how the spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away. SHAKSPEARE. My Love. SHE loves her kind, and shuns no duty; And all who know her say that she I know that she was born for mine. Or pomp, or gold, or man's loud praise, The Star's Reply. THOU bad'st me shine--and when my ray Would'st thou a star's love-beam retain To guide thine earthly way? Then know-thy thoughts must pure remain "Beneath its heavenly ray." ANON. Heigh-ho. LIKE the dew-drop born From the blush of morn, Is the girl I love, heigh-ho! A lily's her cheek, Where the rose blooms meek, And she's mild as a dove, heigh-ho! She folds her heart From the world apart, From the garish day; Of her home she's the light, heigh-ho! As the altar spark That illumes the dark, She's ever the same, heigh-ho! Or a calm sweet star, Shining down afar, Sure from heav'n she came, heigh-ho! 7 |